


Louder Than Words

by sidewinder



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon typical mentions of violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, ToT: Chocolate Box, Trick or Treat 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: It's louder than words, this thing that we do...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KinkyOnTheMeme (NanoFree)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanoFree/gifts).



The time was well past midnight. And after hours of carefully orchestrated interrogation, following days of tracking down leads and gathering enough evidence to get an arrest warrant, their suspect had finally confessed.

Confessed not only to this brutal murder of a child, but to far too many others leading up to this one. Marshall Jenkins had told Detectives Munch and Tutuola where they would find what remained of five year old Andrew McGee, along with every lurid detail of what he’d done to the boy before—and after—his death.

Jenkins had enjoyed it, the bastard. Committing his atrocious acts, of course—that was sickeningly obvious. But he’d also enjoyed the retelling of his actions, the sharing of every minute detail to which the detectives had no choice but to listen.

“Nice work,” Cragen told the two as they finally left the interrogation room.

“Not really.” John cast a disgusted look back through the one-way window. He was beyond tired, mentally and physically. Tired and sick to know what a person could be capable of doing to a child. It took nearly all he had left within him to keep it together a few minutes longer in front of his commanding officer. “He knew we had him. He just wanted to draw it out, make us _earn_ his confession with our own blood, sweat and nausea. And then to share in the excitement of the chase and the kill one final time.”

“Yeah, this guy’s a real piece of work,” Fin agreed, looking equally disgusted as John found himself to be. “But at least we got him before he could kidnap and kill another kid.”

“Too bad that doesn’t help Andrew now,” John said, “or the others before him.” He felt filthy simply from having shared the same air as that sorry excuse for a human being for so many hours.

They’d been on this case over a week now, trying to track down Andrew since his mother had reported him missing, praying and hoping to find the child still alive. Sometimes, in cases like these, they got lucky. This time, regrettably, they’d been several days too late.

“You two go home, get some rest,” Cragen said, his orders dampened by clear sympathy and understanding. “In fact, given the circumstances, take tomorrow off. I’ll send Benson and Stabler out with Warner in the morning to confirm the burial site and hopefully retrieve the body. See if any of the others are in the area like he said they would be, so we can begin the process of identification and notification in those cases as well.”

“Captain, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see this one through to the end,” John sighed. “It basically _is_ morning already, and I can catch an hour or two in the crib. To be honest I don’t think I’m going to be sleeping well until we know Andrew’s been found.”

“Same here,” Fin agreed.

Cragen nodded. “If that’s what you want, I won’t object. But you both call it a night _now_ , and that is an order. I’ll handle the rest, and put the call in to the M.E.’s office for the morning.”

The two detectives both muttered their agreement and thanks. John was eager to get as far away from Marshall as possible, so he was glad to see the unis coming down the hallway to take care of getting the man processed. Adrenaline and coffee had kept him going for most of the last two nights, when they’d barely caught a few cat naps here and there while on the chase. But now the rush was passing and he could feel his exhaustion dragging him down quickly. He could tell his partner was in an equal state of weariness, and neither said anything to the other in the short walk through the quiet corridors of the precinct to the room of bunk beds known to them all as the crib.

“The two of us here alone. I do believe that’s a first,” John said as he stepped inside, seeing they were the only ones using the space for the night. It wasn’t the most comfortable of accommodations but it served its purpose, allowing those on duty to grab some quick shut-eye when needed, or provide somewhere to sleep during emergency situations.

“Don’t be getting any ideas.”

“Trust me, not after tonight.” John had joked and teased Fin many times before about grabbing an elicit quickie here, and on more than a few occasions Fin had seemed almost tempted to take the risk. But with the weight of a child’s murder on their minds, it seemed unpalatable to so much as voice such thoughts.

John eased out of his jacket, folding it to place on an upper bunk, then undoing his tie and removing his glasses to leave there as well. He decided to take off his dress shirt too and fold it for the coming day; if he was going to be making a painful call on Andrew’s family tomorrow, he didn’t want to do so in a wrinkled suit.

Shoes then slipped off, he sat on the lower bunk and stared blankly at the empty space before him and the dark concrete walls, anxious about the visions that might come to him when he dared to close his eyes.

He must have zoned out for a time, caught between exhaustion and his worrisome thoughts. The next thing he was aware of, Fin had sat down beside him, placing an arm about his shoulders and pulling him close. John leaned in against him with a sigh of defeat, letting Fin’s strength and comfort soothe him.

“We did everything we could,” Fin said quietly.

“I know.” They _all_ had, everyone in the department pooling together to work under their lead as they always did whenever a child’s life was at risk. But it still didn’t make it any easier to fail, regardless of whether the blame could be spread around.

Fin didn’t say anything else and neither did John, not for several long minutes where the silence and each other’s company were all they needed. Everybody seemed to think you had to talk through your pain, that talking somehow magically made it go away or somewhat more tolerable. But John knew that wasn’t always or even often the case. He’d told Dr. Huang as much, after another ugly situation involving children when they’d all been forced to “work through it” with the shrink.

_“We can all talk ’til we’re blue in the face. It’s not gonna change the fact that the human race is ever-evolving and will always come up with elaborate, repulsive and depraved ways to kill each other.”_

_“And that’s really the hard part for you, isn’t it? That you can still be repulsed.”_

Huang had been right...not that John had needed to hear it from the doctor.

Healing instead came in the solid, calming presence of the man sitting beside him. Fin, who knew that actions spoke far louder than words ever could. Even the simplest of actions like a hug when needed the most, a soft kiss to the temple and warm hands that knew how to spread tenderness and not more pain.

“Think this bunk is big enough for the two of us?” Fin finally broke the silence to ask. “No funny business, I just...ain’t in the mood for sleeping alone.”

John felt the same way, and at this point honestly could not give a damn if someone _did_ find them sharing a bed in the morning. “Be a tight fit,” he said, eyeing the narrow mattress. “But I think we could manage.”

John broke away from Fin’s embrace to squeeze around him, stretch out on the mattress on the inside of the bunk, against the wall. “Anyone finds us, just say you must have been sleep walking in your exhaustion. Thought I was Beyoncé.”

“That’d be a stretch.” And so was maneuvering such that they could both lay there, side by side, spooned together in a full-body embrace. But though it was a bit awkward, there was a comfort in that close contact that made John feel as if he actually could get some sleep now, enough at least to face the day ahead of them.

“I set my watch alarm for 5:30 so we’ll have time to untangle before the early shift starts,” he told Fin.

“Good idea.”

“Please don’t jump when it goes off, or else you might break something. Namely me.”

“Love you too. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

John smiled to himself, perhaps for the first time he’d allowed himself to do so in days. Tomorrow wouldn’t be easy, and he knew there would be many more cases like this one in the future. More victims like Andrew, more days when he wondered if it was at all worth it, what they put themselves through trying to see justice served. But as long as he had Fin at his side, he knew he would get up to see that next day, and fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

It was simply what they had to do.

 


End file.
